


When He Puts it Like That

by Whatsastory



Series: Ian and Mickey Do the ‘Dad,’ Thing [5]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:02:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22329022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whatsastory/pseuds/Whatsastory
Summary: "So... there's not really an easy way to say this. So I'm just gonna..." she says in a low whisper, and bites her lip. "I'm uh, pregnant. Again. And I... shit, I can't keep this one. Franny already is so expensive. And it's not really fair to her... this kid won't have a dad, either. So I've decided... I decided I'm going to give it up for adoption."
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Series: Ian and Mickey Do the ‘Dad,’ Thing [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1594849
Comments: 35
Kudos: 237





	1. Chapter 1

It's not long after Christmas that Ian, Mickey, and their rambunctious little girl go for a family dinner back at Ian's childhood home. Fiona's not there, still living wherever the fuck she galavanted off to, but other than that, the whole gang is present. 

It's a big affair, cooking for so many people. But Tami's taken it in stride, finally dislodging the stick up her ass (Mickey's had many choice words about said stick). She's finally blending in; one of them. 

Ian's glad for it. Happy for his brother. Happy that she's halfway sane and can cook a decent lasagna, just what she's serving tonight, judging by the way the foyer smells when Mina barges in and slings her coat to the ground just beyond the door. 

"Fuck, it smells good in here!" She shouts and struts into the living room like she owns the place. 

"Mina!" 

"Ay!" Ian and Mickey yell in tandem. 

"Pick your coat up. And don't fucking say fuck!" Mickey reprimands, and gets a hard elbow to the ribs from Ian. 

"You think maybe you lose your authority when you cuss to tell her not to?" Ian whisper yells just as Mina trudges back and picks up her coat, tossing it on the couch with an exaggerated eye roll. 

Mickey holds his hand out with a flap and raises an eyebrow to prove his point. "No, I think she's caught on fine, motherfucker." 

Ian gives him the exact same eye roll that their daughter has as he unravels his scarf and pulls his gloves from his fingers. They both toss their coats on top of their daughter's and wander into the kitchen to a chorus of greetings. 

Mina's already planted firmly in Lip's lap, rambling on and on about this, that and the other. She loves him, and it's no surprise, really. Lip did good with his kid. Fred's got decent grades (not that first grade is hard), and he's really sweet too. Shy little guy. 

He hides behind his mom and peeks around her legs with a little grin before Ian crouches down to his level and gives him his best smile. 

"Freddy, you're not gonna do me like that, are you? I came here just to see you, you know," he fibs and smiles even brighter when Fred finally comes out for a hug. 

"Wow, uncle Ian," Franny chimes in, all nine years of attitude dripping from her words. "I thought Uncle Mickey was my favorite, but now I know for sure he is," she tells him with a pointed look before she raises her arms up to Mickey to be held. She's way too fuckin' big for this shit, but anytime one of Ian's family chooses him over Ian, he's gotta gloat about it. So he picks her up and gives Ian a cocky grin that screams, 'try me, bitch'. 

"Franny, you wound me," Ian says and grabs his heart. But whatever. He'll let Mickey have his moment. 

They've had to add another table to the room, a smaller one near the washer and dryer to accommodate the kids... and Liam, even though he's far too old for this shit. He doesn't usually seem to mind, though. Even when his knees are damn near tucked up to his ears and his back has an unnatural downward arch. He's just happy to have nieces and a nephew that he loves. 

Ian's halfway through his slab of pasta when Debbie clears her throat. She looks back at Franny and then back to the rest of her siblings before she finally rests her eyes on the table. 

"So... there's not really an easy way to say this. So I'm just gonna..." she says in a low whisper, and bites her lip. "I'm uh, pregnant. Again. And I... shit, I can't keep this one. Franny already is so expensive. And it's not really fair to her... this kid won't have a dad, either. So I've decided... I decided I'm going to give it up for adoption." 

There's a stunned silence that falls over the adults, but the kids table is still in full swing. They're clueless. And it's probably better because Debbie wipes at her eyes and scoots her chair back to head outside. 

"Fuck," Mickey mumbles and takes a swig of his beer, and Ian nods along and takes a drink of his own. Fuck indeed. 

~

It's weeks later and Ian and Mickey are laying in bed. Ian with a book propped on his lap like an old fucking man, and Mickey lazily scrolling through his phone- probably looking at guns he doesn't need but wants to buy anyway, when finally he breaks his silence. 

"I think we should adopt Debbie's kid," Mickey blurts out and keeps his eyes glued to his phone. 

"You think we should what?" 

"Adopt her kid. Debbie's. Fuck, might be kinda nice to have another ginger fuck runnin' around." 

"Ginger fuck? Mick," Ian sighs and palms his eyeballs so hard that they might just pop out. "You just called the baby a ginger fuck and you think this is a good idea?" 

"Yeah, well I called you one too and I love your ass and I can love their ass, too, so fuck off with that," Mickey snaps, embarrassment creeping into his complexion. 

"You're serious?" 

"Yeah, man. I'm fuckin' serious. Look, you want your niece or nephew raised by some weird ass fuckin' pedo? Think we can't do better? Cause I think we can." 

"Mickey-" Ian starts, but is cut off. 

"I want another baby, Ian."

“Shit, I don’t kn-”

“I love Mina... so much,” Mickey butts in again. “I would fuckin’ die for her, man. In a fuckin’ heartbeat. You can’t tell me...” Mickey’s voice cracks and he wipes at his eyes. “You can’t tell me that all’a the fucked up shit we’ve done. In spite’a how we grew up... she’s the one fuckin’ thing we did right. She’s... fuck, man. She’s the best thing in the world. You’re gonna tell me that you don’t want another one... with me?” 

There’s very little that Mickey Milkovich- now Gallagher- cries over. He’s a fucking stone faced bastard. So when he does let his guard down, even just a little, it makes Ian feel like his heart is being ripped out of his chest. Like his whole world is collapsing into itself. And he listens. And he takes notes on how to turn everything right side up again. 

“You really wanna do this?” Is the only thing he can think to ask, even though the answer is painfully obvious. 

“Yes, shithead. I wanna do this. I want... Ian, I want a whole family with you. I’d have ten of those little fuckers if you were doin’ it with me. We can... this might be our chance to have something. Something bigger than what we have. Don’t you want that, too?” 

Well, when he puts it like that...


	2. Chapter 2

"Uncle Lip!" Mina screeches the minute -the second- that there's a knock on the door. She peels off from the couch, mouth full of orange dripping down to her t shirt, and flings open the door. 

"Hey, Meee-na," Lip exaggerates and smiles when he's tugged into their living room. 

"Dads! Lip is here! We're leaving!" She shouts towards the kitchen and tugs at his hand again, this time back toward the outside. 

"Whoa, whoa, hold the fuck up," Mickey tells her as he saunters into the room. "Maybe some shoes, kid." 

"And your backpack," Ian adds, then turns his attention to his brother. "She's got lunch money in there. And enough for one toy. One, Mina. I mean it. You've got enough stuffed animals. If this house ever catches fire, your room's gonna be demolished in five seconds." 

"Yeah, yeah. One stuffie. I got it, dad," she tells Ian. "Can you tie these things any faster?" She asks Mickey impatiently. 

And then to Lip, "do they have tigers? Or no. Lions. I wanna see a lion. And an elephant. And a hippo! Oh, oh, oh and, and a giraffe! Can we see a fuckin' giraffe?! Oh my god I love them. I love them so, so much. Did you know that when they have babies, that the, the baby falls like forty feet out of it's mom's butt on to the ground?" 

Lip's mouth falls open and then shut when he looks to Ian for help. He shouldn't need guidance, he's got a kid of his own. Though, he has a boy (waiting patiently in the car with his mom) and girls are a whole new ball game. 

"She's been watching YouTube videos in preparation for her zoo visit," Ian shrugs by way of explanation. 

"Aight," Mickey cuts in, "shoes are tied. Gimme a hug then your dad, then get out of here. But listen, you be good, or when you bring that new stuffie home I'm gonna cut it's head off. Got me?" 

"You wouldn't dare, daddy," she glares and gives him a quick squeeze. And of course he wouldn't. He couldn't do her dirty. She, above anyone else gets Mickey on his best behavior. And unfortunately for him, she knows he's wrapped around her finger. 

She heads over to Ian next and gives him what's probably the quickest hug of his life. Just one arm wrapped around his waist and a little pat above the back of his jeans. 

"Love you. Lemme fix..." but she's already bolting for the door. "Your hair." 

Mickey tries his best, but his pig tails are just never even. 

"Does she know?" Lip asks once she's gone from ear shot. 

"No. We just finished up the fucking parenting classes. We're meeting Debs to sign the paperwork today. Thanks for keeping her for a bit," Ian says, trying his best to keep his nerves at a low simmer. 

Lip grins at him, claps both he and Mickey on the back. "Congrats, pops," he says, and follows after his niece. 

It's a couple of hours later when they're sitting in a greasy booth at the diner- Ian and Mickey on one side with their hands clasped tightly together under the table, and Debbie on the other. They've both already finished their burgers, but she's still working on her (second) one. 

"Fuck I'm fucking starving," she says. "Thanks for buying me lunch." 

"Didn't realize it'd be so expensive," Mickey mutters and earns himself a kick from Ian. 

"So I go tomorrow to find out what it is. Do either of you wanna come? Pretty sure it's a boy, though. Just gotta feeling, you know?" 

Of course they both want to go. And of course she waited until the last fucking second to tell them about the appointment, but whatever. They're still getting a bargain, here. 

"You tell Mina that she's gonna be a big sister yet?" Debbie asks through a mouthful of fries. 

"No, and honestly we're at a loss here. How do you explain fucking adoption to a four year old?" Ian asks, mostly to himself. 

"She's almost five. Just tell her aunt Debs spread her shit out and got knocked up. Ain't that big'a deal," Mickey tells him like it's the most obvious solution. 

"Or," Debbie says with a glare that could melt metal, "we could not tell her that I'm a whore. Thanks for that, by the way. Just tell her that the stork is dropping off another baby or some shit. She doesn't need to know anything other than that right now."

"Yeah. Yeah, maybe," Ian tentatively agrees and squeezes Mickey's hand a little tighter.

When Mina gets home she's a fucking spastic ball of energy. They thought spending the day in the sun would wear her out. But not her. Not their little girl. 

"I only bought one stuffie," she says proudly when she dumps out her backpack. "But uncle Lip bought me three more." 

And isn't that just like a Milkovich/Gallagher allstar collaboration. Conning the system at its finest. 

She holds up her lion, tiger, giraffe and hippo. She got everything she was hoping for, and neither of her dads have it in them to give her shit for her new collection. 

"Did you tell him thanks?" Ian asks as he does his best impressed face when he looks over each one. 

"Yeah, dad. I'm not an idiot." 

"No one said you were, jerk," he says back with the tiniest of a bite. But he can't be mad. He can't say shit when being a sarcastic asshole is his favorite character trait. Obviously.

"I'm not a jerk. You are. Name him," she says and hands over her elephant. 

The way his daughter's mind works will forever be a mystery to him, he assumes. She flips from one subject to the next without any sort of thought behind it- and he sort of loves it. Loves the innocence of it all. Loves her sweet little Mickey-esque grin when she knows she's won him over. Loves that even though she's not his by blood- he can still see so much of himself in her. 

And they're about to have another. 

"Ellie?" Ian asks her and laughs at the disapproving thin line of her lips. 

"Dad!" She yells for Mickey and waits patiently for him to answer. 

"Other dad is trying to name my elephant Ellie. Please tell him that the elephant is a fuckin' boy!" 

"Psh, obviously a boy. Get your shit together, Gallagher," he answers. But he send Ian a wink and it makes Ian's heart do a little flip. 

Whatever. The next baby's a Gallagher by blood and the stakes are about to be even.


	3. Chapter 3

Ian's nervous as he slips his jacket on. The sleeves of his red and black flannel bunch up inside the denim of the jacket, and fuck if that's not the most annoying thing. Doesn't he have enough on his fucking plate right now? 

He bunches his too long fingers up under the sleeve and tugs at the starchy material, cursing god under his breath as he does so. 

"Ay, you want some help, Firecrotch?" Mickey asks quietly, and no, he doesn't want any help. He's a grown man and he can put a fucking jacket on. But if he doesn't oblige then Mickey's gonna start questioning his med routine, which, by the way, is on fucking point. He’s not in the mood for that argument, so he hands over his arm with a gush of hot air tumbling through his teeth. 

"Don't need to be stressed out, Gallagher. She's gonna be fine. She's a tough little asshole. Kinda like you," Mickey chuckles, and even if Ian doesn't want to, he still feels the little tug of a smile. 

"She's gonna hate us, Mick." 

"She'll get over it," Mickey tells him and cups both of his cheeks in his calloused hands. "She's gonna have to. You won't let her work the stove. She'll get hungry sooner or later and come with her tail tucked." 

Ian's not ready. Somehow Debbie's due date is getting closer and closer. And they've waited too long to tell her already. Time's running out and it's crunch time. 

"Easy for you to say. You're her favorite," Ian mumbles and looks off to the side. 

"Maybe. But you're my favorite so it all kinda works out, huh?" 

And there's that smirk again. The one that makes Ian think of him as that same kid with a dirty face and dirtier clothes that he fell in love with years and years ago. The one that makes his stomach feel a little swoopy in the best sort of way. 

So he cups Mickey's hands against his own face and leans in and kisses him soft and warm. Sure and strong just as he has every day for a long while now. 

"Ugh, gross. Can you do this after we get ice cream, please?" Mina asks at the entrance to their bedroom and cocks her hip out like she's a fuck of a lot older than she actually is. 

"How old are you?" Ian asks and blinks at his daughter. "Too young to have this attitude."

"Old enough to know that you and dad are gross. Quit kissing. I'm hungry." 

She saunters off toward the front door, her over exaggerated stomps fading as she goes. 

"I'm gonna jam her ice cream in her little fuckin' face," Mickey tells him, but his eyes glint like he's the proudest dad that there ever was. A product of his making if Ian's ever seen one. 

"We shoulda named her Mean-a. That'd be a lot funnier if you could see the way I spelled it out in my head," Ian tells her and follows suit. 

She's old enough and somehow tall enough that she's ditched her car seat in favor of a booster, and she's capable enough to buckle her own belt with only a little bit of grumbling. 

"I'm gonna get sprinkles. And Reece's. And maybe some cherries. Ooh, ooh! And gummy worms!" She chirps from the back seat, and Ian smiles into the rear view mirror as he listens. 

"You're gonna get plain vanilla and you're gonna fuckin' like it," Mickey teases, loving her defiance when she gets worked up. 

"No I'm not! I don't even like vanilla, dad! I like chocolate! Or cookies 'n cream! Or maybe I'll get..." she rambles on and Mickey smiles over at Ian. 

It works, when he looks at him like that. It always has. It works even better when he rests his hand on Ian's thigh. The hand with the white gold wedding band. It's a little scratched up from age now. A little less shiny than it once was. But it still looks so damn good on his finger, and Ian would be miserable if there were ever a time that it wasn't there. 

"Fuckin' gentrification," Mickey grumbles when they step inside of the Orange Leaf. "Fuckin' frozen yogurt? In our neighborhood? What happened to stealing a pint from the fuckin' Kash and Grab?" 

"Not all of us were stealing, Mick," Ian reminds him and grabs his cup.

“Yeah, well some of us also didn’t like gargling old man balls.” 

Ian gives him a look. One that says, go ahead, motherfucker. Bring that up. 

But Mickey snaps his mouth shut instead. He’s learned his lesson on bringing up the past. It’s fucking growth or some shit. 

Mina wonders back over to the two of them, a bowl full of swirly colors proudly on display. There’s cookies ‘n cream and chocolate and some sort of pink puke looking shit in there, but she looks proud of herself none the less. 

Ordinarily, Mickey wouldn’t let her ruin her dinner. If there’s one thing he’s good at, it’s watching what the fuck she eats. She gets greens and proper protein and vitamins and ugh, it makes him feel soft to think about. But if he fucks her up in every other way... her diet won’t be one of them (Ian would argue that Mickey also reads to her and sings to her and has fucking tea parties with tiaras, so he’s not really fucking up anything). But it’s not every day that you have to tell your only child that they ain’t so ‘only,’ anymore. 

“That looks disgusting,” Mickey observes as he wrinkles his nose at her concoction. 

“You look disgusting,” she shoots back, his little hellion, and pulls him over to help her smother it in toppings. 

They let her get most of the way through her sugar typhoon before Ian clears his throat and sets his own empty bowl down on the table. 

“Mina, me and dad... well we... we uh, we’ve got something to tell you.” 

“Okay?” She asks, and sets her own bowl down like she’s a grown professional woman in a business meeting.

“Okay?” Ian mimics and clears his throat for what must be the fiftieth time. “Okay. Well, so, you know how me and dad have a lot of siblings, right? You’ve got a lot of aunts. And uncles. We both... well, we both have sisters. And brothers. We both have a big family. You have a big family. What I mean to say is, that there’s a lot of Gallagher’s. And. And Milkovich’s. There’s a lot of them. On both sides.” 

Mina stares blankly as Mickey bites the inside of his cheek. There’s a lot going on, from Ian’s rambling and incessantly tapping fingers, to Mina’s obvious boredom. To Mickey’s readiness to get it the fuck over with already. And so... 

“Jesus, Gallagher. Look, Mina. You’re gonna have a baby sister. So you gotta get your act together and be cool. Got me?” 

Mina’s quiet for a long moment. Pensive. Her face sets hard and her little body goes rigid, and for a moment, Mickey forgets that he’s staring down his four year old daughter. His heart races like it does when he’s about to get into a verbal sparring match. 

But then Mina screams. Full out blood curdling scream. And then she smiles. 

“I’m gonna be a big sister?” 

~  
She hasn’t shut up the whole car ride. It’s been ten full minutes of her going on and on without taking a breath. And Jesus Fuck, Mickey’s gonna have two of them soon? He’s never gonna hear himself think again.

“Can I name her?” She asks. 

“You can maybe help. We’ll come up with something together,” Ian answers smoothly. He doesn’t get ruffled by the constant chattering. But then, he’s always been a talker himself. 

“Do I have to share my room?” 

“No.”

“My toys?” 

“Yes.” 

“Will she be reaaaaally tiny?” 

“Yes, so you’ll have to be careful with her.” 

“Well I hope she’s not a bitch.” 

“Mina. You can’t talk like that around your sister. And neither can you, daddy,” Ian says and pointedly jabs Mickey in the ribs with his elbow. 

“Ay. You tried controlling this shit when she was a baby. Didn’t work then. Won’t work now,” Mickey tells him, but they’re both smiling so widely that it doesn’t even matter. As long as the kids are happy, they can have fowl mouthes. Not like Ian and Mickey are saints. 

“Will you love her more than me?” Mina asks quietly, scared, like it’s a realization that’s just dawned on her. Her voice is so earnest that it stops Mickey in his tracks and he turns back to look at her so quickly that he damn near gets whip lash. 

“Look at me, kid. We’re gonna love your sister. But you don’t have to share the love. We got enough for both of you. Just cause there’s a new baby doesn’t mean that you’re not still our baby, too. Got it? We love you. And we always will.” 

She looks down, but then up at Mickey with a delicate sweet little smile that’s everything that makes him weak. 

“Even when I’m an asshole?” 

“Even then.”


End file.
